This Week's Moments
With every move, there are definining moments that assure you that yes, you are still yourself, but no, you aren't in Kansas anymore. (Or eastern SoDak. Whatever.)
There was the moment I thought, "Yay! Six inches of snow! I can paint my kitchen instead of buying a mop today!"
Then there was the time I bundled up to walk the fifty feet to my office.
Or the moment I realized the sun was out and the snow was still falling.
Or the several days I woke up bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 5AM. (Wow, it's been awhile.)
The moments I realized it had been pitch black for an hour and it was barely dinner time.
The time I took a group photo and the guys in it harassed me for standing there in a T-shirt when it was just barely in the 50s.
But then there were the other ones. Like the time I was muttering to myself in Target and because this is Rapid City, someone actually answered.
The proof that in order to get something fixed, you really just need to talk to the right person.*
The moment I agreed to take two bananas and two old blankets home with me.
The one when I realized my kitchen was more TARDIS blue than Smurf blue.
When I looked out my office window to see a mule deer staring right back at me.
When it got so quiet I decided to have a pre-1955 movie marathon. ("Singin' In The Rain," "The Philadelphia Story," and "Casablanca." Great way to spend a Friday.)
It's taking some adjusting, this removal from the rest of the world, this unpacking and rearranging, this having-to-find-people-to-be-social-again. But I feel so very much at home here that life really doesn't seem like it can get much better.
*It took three tries for me to get someone to sign me up for Internet access at home. When I did finally catch the right person, it took about ten minutes and I got a rather nice credit on my first month's bill for the trouble. Sometimes people are awesome.
There was the moment I thought, "Yay! Six inches of snow! I can paint my kitchen instead of buying a mop today!"
Then there was the time I bundled up to walk the fifty feet to my office.
Or the moment I realized the sun was out and the snow was still falling.
Or the several days I woke up bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 5AM. (Wow, it's been awhile.)
The moments I realized it had been pitch black for an hour and it was barely dinner time.
The time I took a group photo and the guys in it harassed me for standing there in a T-shirt when it was just barely in the 50s.
But then there were the other ones. Like the time I was muttering to myself in Target and because this is Rapid City, someone actually answered.
The proof that in order to get something fixed, you really just need to talk to the right person.*
The moment I agreed to take two bananas and two old blankets home with me.
The one when I realized my kitchen was more TARDIS blue than Smurf blue.
When I looked out my office window to see a mule deer staring right back at me.
When it got so quiet I decided to have a pre-1955 movie marathon. ("Singin' In The Rain," "The Philadelphia Story," and "Casablanca." Great way to spend a Friday.)
It's taking some adjusting, this removal from the rest of the world, this unpacking and rearranging, this having-to-find-people-to-be-social-again. But I feel so very much at home here that life really doesn't seem like it can get much better.
*It took three tries for me to get someone to sign me up for Internet access at home. When I did finally catch the right person, it took about ten minutes and I got a rather nice credit on my first month's bill for the trouble. Sometimes people are awesome.
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